


The More Things Change

by skripka



Category: Firefly RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-29
Updated: 2004-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-26 04:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skripka/pseuds/skripka
Summary: Are you besmirching my air?





	1. Chapter 1

Sean stood at the entrance to the room, finger tapping idly on his teeth.

“You really do have a thing with your mouth, don’t you?”

Sean jumped guiltily at the sound of Nathan’s voice. “What?”

“You know, those folks on the internet, talking about your ‘oral’ tendencies.” The grin Nathan was sporting was pure mischief. Sean shook his head, sadly.

“And you resisted so long, too.”

“Huh?”

Now it was Sean’s turn to smirk. “The computer has warped your brain, Nate.”

“Hey!”

“Hey, yourself. I told Adam it’d be only a matter of time.”

“You really are evil, you know that?”

Sean laughed, and stepped into the room a bit, just so he could look Nathan in the eye. “Why, yes, yes I am.” He gave Nathan a slow once-over with his eyes. “You know what they say on the internet about my ‘oral’ tendencies, right?”

Nathan stepped back, a slightly worried expression on his face. “Nooooo, what?” he drawled, trying for non-chalance.

Sean grinned again, and backed off. “Look up ‘slash’ next time you're online, Nate. We’re late for a script reading.” He strolled off, chuckling, leaving a confused Nathan in his wake. 

“Hey! How would you spell that?”

***

"Hey, Nathan, what's up?"

"Yeah, Adam, I have a computer question."

"Lay it on me."

'What was that site that you said had all the answers?"

"Google?"

"Google dot com?"

"Right."

"So, I just type in the little box..."

"Yeah, and then hit enter or the search button."

"Oooohkay. That ended up wrong...no, wait. Got it. Any way to narrow down the results?"

"Yeah, just type in more stuff. You see the box at the top?"

"Um. Got it."

"That's all?"

"No more computer things, no. How was dinner?"

"Excellent, man. I tell you, I can make a mean roast chicken."

"Heh. I bet you can. The kids?"

"Theoretically? Ready for bed. In actuality? Running around like reavers."

"Hah! You've been spending too much time with Joss!"

"You think? I'll see you tomorrow?"

"My call's a bit later than usual."

"So's mine. I guess the boss is doing something else in the morning."

"Yeah. Tomorrow, then. Thanks, Adam!"

"Anytime, Nate."

_click_

***

Nathan sat at the table, script revisions in front of him, and found it almost impossible to concentrate. Oh, he had been quite aware of fanfiction for some time. Joss had made no secret of his devoted, some might call it a "fanatical" fanbase, and had warned them all about the possibilities. Nathan hadn't worried. Frankly, he didn't understand why fans would want to write stories, but the idea never really bothered, or even affected him.

Then he read some.

Usually, Nathan was pretty good about separating fact from fiction; he *knew* he wasn't Mal, and he *knew* Sean wasn't Simon. But, seeing as how they were in the middle of script readings for the movie, Nathan found it more difficult than usual to distance himself from what he had read.

Adam and Jewel were discussing a scene, and Tim was adding his own comments, when Nathan looked up. Sean was directly across from him, intent on studying his script, his index finger crooked over his lip. The image flashed him back to a fic he had just read, about Simon and Mal and ...

"Nathan?" Summer nudged him in the ribs. "You look a bit lost there."

He blinked. "Ah. Um. Didn't sleep well last night." He grinned at Summer. "I'm fine, really."

"Yeah," she smiled back. "Just checking."

Sean glanced up at the exchange, and smirked at the two of them. Summer made a face back at Sean, and they all laughed quietly.

***

"Okay, folks. Great job, as usual. That's it for now. See you tomorrow!" Joss led Tim out of the conference room, heads together, deep in discussion, as the actors broke up into smaller groups. Alan got right down to flirting with Gina and Morena, regaling them with tales of Vancouver. Adam and Ron were discussing recipes for... salmon, it sounded like, and Sean was packing up his script and putting on his jacket. 

Nathan managed to catch him before he disappeared like Jewel and Summer.

"Hey, Sean."

He looked a bit startled by the arm on his shoulder, but otherwise calm. "What is it, Nathan?"

"I think we both need a beer."

"We do?"

"Yep. And I've got the perfect spot."

***

"Sticky much?" Sean looked at Nathan, and back down at his shoe, which seemed to be attached to the floor. It released with a small pop as they made their way to the back of the bar.

"Ah, it's beer. Always better in dives, you know that."

"I'm just surprised that anything like this exists in L.A. Or that you knew about it." Sean slid into the high-backed booth, carefully not spilling his beer.

Nathan followed, on the opposite side. "Well, you know, I like to maintain an air of mystery."

"Ah." Sean nodded sagely, a grin twitching at his lips, as he brought his drink to his mouth.

"What?" Nathan forced himself to take his eyes off Sean, and focus on his own beer. "Are you besmirching my air?"

Sean choked a bit, trying not to laugh. "Just imagining you with an 'air', is all." He shrugged. "Seemed funny to me."

Nathan smiled to show no harm, and they both drank their beers in silence for a bit. Sean's eyes followed the other patrons as they moved about. Nathan found himself watching Sean more often than not. He shook his head. This was ridiculous.

Sean caught his movement, and raised his eyebrows in question. Nathan blushed (blushed!) and took a long drink of beer to cover his embarrassment as Sean leaned forward.

"What's up, Nate?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, come on. I know we get along, but you've never just asked me out for a beer before. It's always Adam or Ron or Alan. Suddenly, you want to be best friends?"

"Hey, you're the quiet one!"

"I am," Sean shrugged and leaned back. "Just wondering what's going on in your head, is all."

Nathan looked at his beer. "Um. Well, you remember yesterday?"

Sean's laugh was quickly swallowed by his hand. "You didn't!"

Glaring, Nathan answered. "I did. Where'd you find out about that stuff, anyway?"

"An old friend of mine told me about it. Did you actually..." Sean smirked at Nathan's blush. "You did, didn't you? You read some?" His fingers waved helplessly with mirth in front of his mouth.

Nathan crossed his arms protectively across his chest. "Well, you made such a fuss." He ignored his burning ears.

The snicker was just audible as Sean smirked and nodded. "Whatever helps you sleep, Nate."

"You're besmirching me again."

Sean looked vaguely pensive for a moment, as he chewed on his lip, and nodded. "I could be, this is true." He leaned forward again, conspiratorily. "What did you read?"

Nathan swallowed, and found his eyes, for once, looking anywhere but Sean's face. That didn't stop him from seeing Sean's eyes widen in comprehension.

"Oh my." The younger man snickered louder.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Nathan burst out.

"Should it?" Sean shrugged. "I think it's funny. Well, the concept at least. I haven't actually read any of the stories, you know, not like you have." He grinned evilly at Nathan, who glowered back. "Were they any good?"

"How should I know?" Nathan grumped, more than flustered now. Why was he talking about this stuff with Sean, of all people? "Wouldn't you have more expertise?"

"Me?" Sean looked taken aback. "Why me?"

"Aren't you, you know...," Nathan began, glad to get some of his own back.

"Aren't I what?"

"Well, come on, Sean. You _know_ what they say about NYU theater majors."

Sean rolled his eyes, finger tracing patterns on the glass. "I'm sure. What do they say about boys from Edmonton?"

Nathan laughed, finally. "That we eat perogies and play hockey. Are you going to answer me?"

"I wasn't aware you had actually asked a question."

"Are you or aren't you?"

"Does it matter?"

Nathan had to pause. Why _was_ he so interested? He schooled his expression into one of disinterest. Sean caught his eyes, and he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. But, they were both good actors; they could both play the game. "No, it doesn't. Just curious."

Sean hummed, half in agreement, half in disbelief, and then stood up. "Well, Nate. Thanks for the invite. Good beer."

Nathan leaned back. "Glad you enjoyed."

Sean tossed a few bills on the table. "Early call in the morning. See you there." He grinned, and turned to walk out of the bar.

Nathan eyes followed him as he left, the thought running through his head. *I am not watching his ass, I am not watching his...oh crap, I'm actually watching his ass.* He groaned. What was he doing?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get out of here.

Friday was a good day on the set. For one thing, Joss had actually _gotten_ their set back. It was a surprise, and instead of reading lines in the conference room, they sat around the table in the galley. Felt like old times. Everyone was smiling and laughing and happy. Not terribly productive, perhaps, but happy.

It was _real_ , at last. They were all reunited on _Serenity_. Joss made a point of thanking Carey, for reproducing practically every detail, and Alan promised to bring the big red button back. 

"Well, you know those obsessive fans...," Joss began, and that reminded Nathan. He glanced over to where Sean was leaning against the counter.

Their eyes met. Nathan looked away quickly, but he felt that there was something Sean wanted to communicate. He walked closer to the kitchen zone, and was interrupted by Adam. 

"You two coming to my house for the party?"

Sean got there a second before Nathan. "You're having a party?"

"Yeah, the kids and the wife are going to Colorado, and I'm in the mood to cook." Adam flashed his big grin. "I'm inviting everyone."

Nathan replied, "Sure, Adam. Just give me the time and tell me what to bring." The two of them looked at the younger man. It took a moment before Sean nodded as well. 

"Cool. Sean, you remember how to get there?"

Nathan sidled away while Adam filled Sean in on the details. They could talk at the party. He needed the time to think.

***

Adam might not be as extravagant the host as Gina and Laurence were, but he could cook. Fried tofu appetizers appeased Ron's sensibilities, but Nathan was personally very impressed by the pot roast. And the cabernet he served was really quite nice, too. 

The party had broken up into smaller groups by the time Nathan realized he had lost track of Sean. He wandered around to the sliding doors, and looked out over the pool. Sean was there, facing away from the house.

Nathan slid the door open, and strolled nonchalantly up to Sean's side. 

"Nice night?"

Sean hummed noncommittally in answer. Nathan noticed the contrast between his black turtleneck and pale skin. His fingers itched with the urge to touch, and see if Sean's face was as cool as the marble it resembled.

He shook his head. What was his brain doing to him? Sean looked at him and asked, "Read any more _'literature'_?"

Nathan blushed, glad for the dim light. He briefly thought about lying, but decided he might as well go for it. "Yes. What about you?"

Sean laughed, a bit oddly. "I have to admit, your reaction fascinated me."

"And?"

"There's a lot." Sean turned his face to Nathan. "Especially about us." His eyes widened briefly. "I mean, Mal and Simon. Were you aware that Simon was a masochist?"

"Which one is that again?" 

"You're not dumb, Nathan. Please." Sean looked tired. "That's the one where the person likes pain."

"Oh." Nathan paused, considering. "Did you..."

"No, and I'm not sure how they got that impression." Sean sighed. "You know, there're some people who have written over one hundred stories?"

"Really?" 

"Although, there are some more disturbing ones." Sean leaned in. "There's even one about Ron and Adam." He smirked at Nathan's shocked look. "Although it was well written, I didn't find it as...," Sean coughed delicately, "arousing as some of the others.

Nathan's mouth opened before he could censor himself. "There was a really hot one that had some stuff about dirt..." He grimaced as he realized what he was saying.

Sean just looked at him.

They stood in the heavy and damp air. Silent and shaded, Nathan thought, as he examined Sean's face. He wondered what it would be like to kiss another man. Women were soft, pliant even when they were strong. Sean was all hard planes, angles and muscles. He'd taste like the cabernet they had just finished. Nathan felt light-headed.

He swayed a bit. Sean caught him, hand burning into his biceps, genuine concern on his face.

"Are you okay?"

Nathan blinked. "Fine. Yeah. I just...," His voice trailed off.

Sean's hand fell. The temperature dropped. Nathan shivered. "You should go home. You look pale."

Nathan looked back at the lights in the house. "I'm fine." He took a deep breath. "Let's get out of here."

Mouth open, Sean blinked and replied, "What?"

"I need...something a bit more. More exciting." 

The look Sean gave him nearly convinced Nathan that he was going nuts, but he didn't care. He felt hot, again. "Besides, it's a good day. Can't end the night here. Not like this."

"And you want me along because?" Sean seemed genuinely confused.

"Do I look like I should be driving?" Nathan was confused too, but damned if he was going to let Sean know that.

The younger man stepped back, giving Nathan some much-needed air. He heard a sigh. "And you want me to drive you...where, exactly?"

Nathan closed his eyes, and breathed in the fresh air. "Anywhere. Away. Your choice."

***

"What is this place?"

A riot of color assaulted them, music thrummed through their feet.

Sean leaned in, voice loud and breath hot against Nathan's ear. "A Moroccan disco."

"And that sign?"

"What? All lifestyles welcome?"

"Yeah."

Sean snickered, and used his hand on Nathan's shoulder to guide him into the upholstered booth. Nathan had to duck and kneel down, and somehow managed to get comfortable behind the low table. Sean followed more gracefully, talking a bit more quietly now the the pillows soaked up some of the sound.

"Means just what you think, Nathan. Figured it was appropriate given our latest conversations."

"Oh." Nathan let that seep in for a moment, then looked at Sean. "So. You, what? Come here often?"

An enigmatic smile lit up Sean's face. "The tea's incredible. The atmosphere is fun. What more would I want?"

Nathan wasn't sure how to answer that, so he didn't. Instead, he looked around. The dancing was in the front; the booths they were in were almost tent-like, blue patterned fabric surrounding them on all sides. He touched a purple-y spot, and felt his finger sink in a bit. Nathan looked up at Sean's voice. "Huh?"

"I said, do you smoke?" He had snagged a waiter, and they were both watching him expectantly.

"Uh, not often. Why?"

Sean turned back to the waiter. "We'll try the mint-apple combo. Plus lots of tea." The brightly (and tightly) dressed waiter moved away.

"Since when do you smoke?" Nathan asked curiously.

Sean shrugged. "Once in a while. Thought you were looking for something new and exciting."

"It's a bad and nasty habit, and keeps you from being a good role-model to the kiddies."

Sean gave him _that_ look, the _from-underneath-his-eyelashes_ look. Nathan found himself amazing at how long they were as Sean spoke. "Yes, and going to exotic dance clubs with strange men sets such a good example."

Nathan huffed, "Hey, you know me!"

Smirking, Sean replied, just as their tea arrived, "Yes, and therefore, I know exactly how strange you are." He passed a glass cup to Nathan, and heat briefly flared as their fingers brushed. Nathan managed not to jump out of his skin.

He found himself looking anywhere but at Sean, who busied himself pouring the tea. The scent of hot and damp mint rose, and Nathan inhaled gratefully. "Nice."

"Very." Sean dropped a cube of sugar into his cup, and swirled it gently. Nathan stared as it dissolved slowly, flecks of white floating in suspension. "Nathan? Are you sure you're okay?"

Nathan couldn't answer that; he felt as if he were on some strange drug. He was hyper-aware of everything...it was overwhelming. But at the same time, he couldn't imagine or remember *not* feeling like this. It was like his life had started suddenly. He didn't dare pinpoint the moment, not when he had a damned good idea of what it was.

He wasn't ready to go there. Not yet.

"I'm okay," he lied, and took a sip of tea to cover it. Sean was still looking, but didn't question Nathan anymore, and began to drink his tea as well. The two of them sat quietly until the waiter returned with an apparatus--a glass vase with all sorts of tubes and metal poke-y bits.

"Um. Sean? What exactly are we talking about smoking here?" Nathan stared at the apparatus.

"Relax, Nate. It's just tobacco. Flavored tobacco in a hookah, but that's all." Sean looked over at Nathan. "Really." He turned back to the waiter, and nodded as three small pieces of charcoal were placed on the top of the hookah. "Thank you."

"How does it work?" Nathan leaned closer, intrigued.

Sean picked up a tube, and explained, "Well, once the smoke get going, you sort of just... er, suck." Nathan raised his eyebrows as Sean blushed. So, he wasn't as self-assured as he appeared. Interesting.

"Really."

Nathan watched as Sean visibly braced himself, and started. "Really. Like this." Nathan found himself mesmerized by lips curled around a wooden mouthpiece, the sight of Sean's cheeks hollowing, and the curve of his fingertips, and how his eyes were lidded in pleasure...

He was holding his breath, and he was getting a hard on. Nathan had to admit that he was getting hard from watching Sean suck on a vaguely... all right, a very phallic object. 

And when Sean exhaled, Nathan stared at his pursed lips and the halo the smoke made around his face, and found himself thinking what it would be like to kiss him (again.)

He swallowed hard, and reached for the mouthpiece in front of him.

***

The two of them spilled onto the street, Sean still laughing. Nathan followed a bit bemusedly. After the intensity of the dance club, the semi-darkness of an LA night was calming, and they both caught their breath quickly.

Sean recovered, and looked around. "Where'd I put the car?" Nathan pointed around the corner, and placed his hand in the small of Sean's back to guide him. The thin, soft fabric of the turtleneck did nothing to stop heat from warming Nathan's fingers. Almost involuntarily, they pressed in deeper, searching for more warmth, absently tracing a circle.

"Just there." He suddenly realized what he doing, and pulled his hand back quickly. Sean didn't say anything, but led the way to the car. Nathan followed, his mind spinning out of control.

He was attracted to Sean. Which was clearly insane. Why? Because Sean was a guy. A guy he worked with. A guy he had conversations about sex with. A really sexy, smart, good looking guy, who he really, really wanted to kiss.

Nathan was glad it was dark. He felt warm; he was sure he was blushing. Sean was a few steps ahead, fumbling in his pocket for his keys. Nathan's hands itched to help, to pull those hips closer, to slide his fingers into those pockets, millimeters away from hot, hard flesh...

He swallowed against his suddenly dry throat.

What would be so wrong about spending time with Sean? They had interesting conversations. It wasn't like either of them kept their private lives in the spotlight.

If Sean were a woman, he would have made a move by now. 

Why was that holding him back?

Fuck. 

He was convincing himself to do it.

"Sean." His voice surprised him. It was loud and hoarse; sounded like months since he had used it. Sean half turned, key ring jangling from a finger, eyes questioning.

Do it.

Nathan found his hands cupping Sean's jaw. Strong mouth against his, shocked into stiffness. Nathan stepped backwards, pulling Sean with him, until he felt cold concrete at his back. He groaned as he yanked Sean into the space between his legs.

Sean broke the kiss, "What the hell?" His eyes were glinting, wide open and stunned. His half-open mouth was damp and reflecting small specks of light.

"Sean..." Nathan had no words left. He let his hand travel down Sean's arms, and took the keys from him, slipping them back into his pocket. Oh god. So close. "Please."

His fingers splayed on Sean's hip, Nathan let Sean examine his face. He could barely breathe, and was getting light headed again. Maybe he was getting sick. But all he could think of was kissing Sean again. He hoped Sean could tell.

A hot mouth found his, and he groaned as a smoke-tainted tongue swept in. Nathan pulled the slim, muscular body to his, reveled in how easily they fit together, how good it felt.

Yes.

***

The phone rang. 

Nathan grumbled, and rolled over. It rang again.

"God damnit." 

He reached his hand out, and fumbled. The small cell phone jangled once more. Nathan blurily pressed the button. "Yeah?"

"Nathan?"

"Mm. Morning. What's up, Adam?"

He laughed too loudly into the phone. "It's almost not morning. Where'd you disappear to last night?"

"Ow. Just out."

"Did you drag Sean with you?"

Nathan winced, glad Adam couldn't see his face. "Um, yeah. We had some tea and...stuff."

"Stuff. Anything I should be worried about, seeing as how you're still in bed?"

"No, I'm fine, Adam. Just...a late night. That's all."

"Heh. So, not up to any biking or hiking or golf today?"

"Adam, I'm not sure I'm up to sun."

"Fine." Adam laughed again. "Tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Cool. Call you later, then."

"Bye."

Nathan peered at the tiny buttons, and ended the call. He placed the phone back on the nightstand, and rolled over, back under the covers. 

Sean opened his eyes, and slowly stretched. Nathan leaned in closer, and watched the interplay of muscles. He grinned when he saw Sean looking at him.

"Near sighted."

"Ah." Sean smiled, and stretched once more. "You know, that ring tone of yours is entirely too perky for mornings."

"It's almost not morning."

"Whatever." Sean looked back at Nathan. "So, what now?"

"Breakfast?"

"Breakfast it is. Do you cook?"

Nathan smirked. "You have no idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pot roast. (it was funny at the time)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know something?

Everyone had their own special place on set; Adam had his nook, Summer had the chair in the galley, Nathan had the corner of the cargo bay just in front of the airlock. Sean, on the other hand, tended to hide in Simon's dorm. Curled up with his script, hair askew, mouth slightly open, with a finger crooked inside...

Nathan stood at the entrance, careful to only touch the frame of the door. Sean didn't react. Nathan grinned, and thought privately to himself how adorable Sean looked when he was concentrating. He scuffed his foot. Sean jumped.

"Christ, Nathan!" he yelped. "Make some noise!"

"I just did." 

"Funny." Sean scowled, half seriously. "What's going on? I thought I wasn't up?"

"Nah, we're both off for a bit." Nathan stepped over to the bed, ran his fingers along the fabric covering, and sat down, dangerously close to Sean. "You know something?"

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me." The three furrows appeared in Sean's forehead. Nathan resisted the tingle in his fingers that told him to smooth them away.

"There're a lot of stories that have us humping like bunnies in this room." Nathan tried looking serious, and almost failed.

Sean looked shocked. "Nathan! Not at work..." he hissed, looking nervously towards the door.

"Just making a comment. Chill, Sean." Nathan smirked. "Anyway, as I was saying, supposedly we've gone every which way imaginable in this very bed."

Sean pursed his lips. Nathan continued.

"It's too bad all those slash writers don't know how uncomfortable it actually is."

"Do you have a point?" 

Nathan leaned in, close enough to feel Sean's startled exhalation. "This one story, you had to fuck me about forty times to save my life."

The flush started on Sean's neck, and rose. He swallowed. "And?"

Nathan pulled back. "I just thought if you were to fuck me that many times, it'd be better to do it someplace more padded." He grinned as he stood, and watched Sean regain control. "Coming over this weekend?"

The pillow that hit him in the nose was not quite the answer Nathan was looking for, but close enough, he figured.

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, I'm going to the special hell.


End file.
